


The Weather Outside is Frightful

by EchoResonance



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Power Outage, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 01:18:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4459733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoResonance/pseuds/EchoResonance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Komui should never be allowed near electrical equipment of any kind for any reason, especially in the winter. Frequent power outages produced by a combination of blizzards and his reckless abandon in regards to his own crazy projects meant a lot of huddling for warmth. However, those who arrive late to the party don't have much opportunity to join the others, so they have to make due.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Weather Outside is Frightful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aymiwalker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aymiwalker/gifts).



> The weather inside isn't much better

Allen’s return to HQ after his most recent assignment was not...warmly received. It might have been because Kanda was there, but it probably had more to do with the fact that the heating system was down. Again. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d come back from missions during the winter, hoping to find some reprieve from the cold, only to find that the only thing Headquarters offered was a less windy experience of the inside of a refrigerator. Komui was usually the one to thank for that, as they were his crazy inventions and maniacal experiments that kept shorting out the power, but of course he always managed to paint himself as the victim. Not that it mattered. Nobody could kill him because he was the best at fixing the power issues, and while anybody in the science department could eventually figure it out, the man had it down to an art. Probably because his life depended on it.

Today was particularly cold, and the few people that had somehow managed to get ahold of space heaters were holed up in their rooms with as many friends as they could fit, all huddled together to keep from turning into human cryogeny exhibits. Shivering, Allen had tottered through the many winding corridors and down the countless sets of stairs that made up the massive building, his goal Hevlaska. He’d retrieved a new piece of Innocence and needed to make sure it got to her immediately. He could feel it in an inside pocket of his jacket, energy pulsing from it faintly though it produced no warmth, like a weak, mechanical heartbeat.

Currently he was shivering in his own bedroom, having successfully given Hevlaska the Innocence and learning that, while she did feel the cold, it didn’t make her uncomfortable like it did everyone else. Allen envied her that. He used to have a space heater, cheap though it was, but it had been thoroughly destroyed when Lavi and Kanda somehow both ended up in his room at the same time. The poor heater had met its demise by Kanda’s hand--or actually, Lavi’s, as he was the one that had used it as a shield--after the Bookman apprentice called the swordsman by his first name. He hadn’t gotten a new space heater, and neither of those two were ready to reimburse him in any case. Lavi had conveniently forgotten that anything of the sort had happened, and Kanda…

Well, Kanda had no need to pretend a poor memory, he was very up front about how little he cared for Allen’s murdered source of heat. The boy groaned and pulled his knees up to his chest, shivering under his blanket. As a parasitic-type accommodator, Allen’s metabolism was leagues beyond normal, which meant he needed to eat an exorbitant amount of food just to break even, and his body produced huge amounts of body heat. That didn’t mean he felt warm, though. It just meant that every person that clung to him to leach the warmth he was putting out felt freezing, and he was more than aware of the cold air around him.

Idly he wondered if Lavi’s hammer, or rather the fire stamp, would work the same as a campfire. Probably not. Allen suspected that using that inferno-weapon to keep the chill off would be akin to going hunting with a rocket launcher.

Allen sighed heavily and threw his blankets off of him, skin rippling at the direct rush of cold air as he swung his legs over the side of his bed and stood up. Maybe if he could get moving, that might get his blood pumping enough to generate some warmth. How many laps around the building would that take? Would he warm up or pass out first? Acknowledging that it was hardly a great plan, Allen left his room anyway, since it was the only plan he had and he didn’t particularly want to sit in the dark shivering until Komui fixed his mess.

Just as his door clicked closed, Allen heard a voice behind him, as low and sullen as ever, and heaved a weary sigh. It was too cold for this.

“Oh great, you’re back?”

“N-nice to see you, t-too, Kanda,” Allen said, taking a stab at civility as he turned around.

The swordsman had paused on the way to his room to glower at Allen, his long coat dusted with snow and a halo of it sitting in his raven hair. His cheeks and nose were uncharacteristically pink as well, and they might have given his face a softer appearance had the look in his eyes not been sub-zero.

“And here I was hoping for some peace and quiet after my assignment,” Kanda sighed imperiously, moving towards his room once again. “So much for that.”

“H-how did it go?” Allan asked through his chattering teeth. He already knew there were only two possible answers; either there was Innocence and Kanda had retrieved it, or there was not and he was going to kill Komui for wasting his time in the morning. He never failed a mission, and if by some strange twist of fate he did, he certainly wouldn’t tell Allen.

“Fine,” he replied curtly, pausing again to look over his shoulder. “I assume yours didn’t go so well since you’re still here.”

A vein began to pulse in Allen’s temple.

“Sh-shut up,” he snapped, but any venom in his words was lost in the infuriating stammer inflicted by his shivering frame. “Y-you’re a j-jerk, y’kn-n-now that?”

Instead of responding, Kanda slowly turned around to look at him, eyes narrowing nearly to slits. Allen stiffened, immediately considering his chances of defending himself in his current state and coming up with odds that were not altogether comforting. Kanda took one step forward, and Allen stumbled back clumsily. The swordsman raised an eyebrow.

“Your lips are blue, Beansprout,” Kanda said cooly.

“M-m-my n-nam-me iss A-Allen,” Allen said irately, nearly biting off his tongue. “H-how are y-y-you n-not c-cold?!”

“Not everybody is as weak as you are,” Kanda snorted.

“W-what d-do y-y-you w-want?” Allen demanded. “I’m n-not r-r-really in th-the m-mood t-to p-p-part-t-t-ticc...p-part-t-t-ticip-p...to d-deal w-with y-you.”

Kanda almost seemed amused by his inability to force the word ‘participate’ out. At least, his expression seemed to soften by a fraction, so that it was more like limestone than marble.

“You still haven’t replaced that heater of yours?” Kanda said, and Allen supposed his humor stemmed from his enjoyment of Allen’s inconcealable shuddering.

“S-s-som-meone h-hassn’t p-paid m-me b-b-back-k f-for it,” Allen snapped.

“I had a clear shot at that moron,” Kanda said matter-of-factly. “He’s the one that used it as a shield. Ask him to compensate you.”

“H-he c-c-convvvven-n-niently f-forgot th-that h-h-he u-u-used it t-to k-keep you from mmminc-cing h-him,” Allen said.

“I don’t speak whatever language you’re trying to communicate in,” Kanda told him. “Quit quaking like you’re in your own personal natural disaster and try again.”

“Oh y-yeah, w-w-why don’t I j-just d-do th-that?” Allen grumbled.

Kanda’s frown deepened and he moved forward again. Allen meant to step backwards, but his foot didn’t quite want to cooperate--it might have had something to do with the fact that he couldn’t feel his bare toes, since he hadn’t even thought to put on shoes--and he ended up tripping himself and falling hard on his back. Hissing in pain, he propped himself up on his elbows, wincing, and looked to the side in thorough humiliation.

“Wow, look at that,” Kanda sneered predictably. “You actually managed to get even shorter.”

Allen bristled, but couldn’t manage much more than a half-hearted glare at Kanda before he slumped onto his back, the cold floor seeping through his clothes.

“You’re going to get hypothermia just lying there, Beansprout,” the swordsman said.

“W-w-what do y-you c-c-care?” he mumbled, eyes drooping. He was really tired.

“Hey! Don’t go to sleep out here you moron!” Kanda snapped, and something jabbed Allen sharply in his side, eliciting a strangled yelp. He looked around, spied Kanda’s boot pulling back to kick him again, and rolled out of the way just in time.

“I’ll s-s-sleep out hhere if I w-w-want,” Allen said faintly.

There as an exasperated sigh from somewhere above him, and a blurred shadow blocked out the dim lighting supplied by the backup generator.

 _Too bad the generator can’t support the heat and light at the same time,_ Allen thought sourly _. You’d think with the caliber of scientists we have they might be able to manage a fully-functioning backup system._

“You’re in the way,” Kanda said impatiently.

“No one’s out...right now…”

“Tch.”

That shadow got bigger, and something very warm touched Allen’s waist, startling him into slightly better clarity just in time to register that the shadow was Kanda kneeling beside him, and what he felt on his waist were the swordsman’s calloused hands. Then he was hoisted in the air and gracelessly slung across the man’s shoulder like a sack of flour. The sudden motion left Allen feeling dizzy and disoriented, so he wasn’t sure if he was actually moving or if he was entirely out of it, and he couldn’t quite formulate a reprimand for picking him up. Plus, Kanda was...incredibly warm somehow.

“You’re freezing,” Kanda complained. “Haven’t you ever heard of a damn blanket?”

“Sh-sh-shuu--”

“You know what? Just don’t talk, you’re irritating enough when you’re coherent,” Kanda said. “I don’t want to deal with you if you manage to bite your own tongue off because you can’t shut up for more than thirty seconds.”

Allen tried to elbow the back of Kanda’s head, but his body felt entirely too heavy and the attempt felt like he was moving through water. He was really tired… Kanda gave him a fierce shake and brought his awareness back a little. Blinking, Allen noticed that they were actually moving--or rather, Kanda was walking. Allen wasn’t really doing much. But the swordsman was carrying Allen back to his room. When he reached the door, which hadn’t closed properly, he kicked it open and moved to the bed, flinging Allen unceremoniously down on top of it. However, the already graceless action was somewhat complicated when Allen’s half-frozen body didn’t quite relinquish its new heat source, and Kanda ended up falling on top of the younger boy, shouting obscenities.

“Let go of me you damned sprout!” he snarled, attempting to disentangle himself from Allen’s limbs.

The boy wasn’t consciously trying to keep Kanda there, but he wasn’t about to complain about his body acting on its own. Seriously, Kanda was really warm.

“You’re fucking freezing you bastard, let go of me!” he snapped, planting a fist in Allen’s stomach.

“Mmph...h-how are you so w-warm…?” Allen mumbled.

“Anything feels warm when you’re a goddamn ice cube!” Kanda said, still struggling. “Now bastard, let go of me!”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why you--” Kanda hissed, but he cut himself off when Allen’s arms tightened around his middle and the boy buried his face in his chest. “What...the hell...are you doing?”

“Mm, warm…” Allen said, voice muffled by Kanda’s jacket.

“You said that already,” he retorted, reaching down to pry Allen’s arms away. The boy had a surprisingly strong hold, especially considering he seemed to be half-dead from the temperature, but then again maybe his limbs had become extra stiff because of that.

The boy murmured something that, between his weak volume and the fact that his face was still pressed against his chest, Kanda didn’t catch. He gave the boy’s shoulder an ineffective push, and he repeated himself, a little louder, but still incoherent.

“I can’t hear you, shortstack,” Kanda grumbled.

“Stay here,” Allen repeated, pulling away slightly so as to be better understood. Kanda stiffened.

“Why the hell would--”

“Come on…” the boy wheedled. “You’re so warm.”

“And you’re a stupid broken record,” Kanda said. “There’s no way I’m staying here just so you can pretend I’m your personal fucking teddybear. Bury yourself under your blankets or die of frostbite for all I care, just let me go.”

Grumbling, Allen reluctantly forced his stiff joints to release his momentary reprieve from the cold. Kanda immediately leapt away from the bed, glowering morosely as Allen shuddered at the sudden lack of heat and curled in on himself, almost pouting but not quite able to muster the energy necessary.

“Jerk,” he said grumpily.

“Whatever.”

Allen rolled over so that his back was to Kanda, and taking that as his cue for freedom, he all but launched himself out the still-open door before the kid changed his mind and caused him more hassle. However, he didn’t get far before his pace slowed first to a trudge, then a stop. Kanda glanced back over his shoulder.

That kid’s body temperature was dangerously low, especially for him. Kanda was quite aware that Allen normally put out heat like a furnace because of his parasitic Innocence-powered metabolism, so for him to come in contact with the kid and register that his skin was freezing was not a good sign. Komui probably wouldn’t have the heat back up and running tonight, so everyone was going to have to tough out the cold until it was light out, but Kanda didn’t think Allen would make it that long and still retain all of his fingers and toes. Not that it mattered to him. Whether the kid had ten digits on his hands or four had no impact on Kanda’s life and his ability to sleep at night. Realistically, he’d only get down to four fingers and a thumb, because there was no way that his left arm would give out to frostbite. As long as that was intact he’d still be a full Exorcist intent on annoying the hell out of him.

But then why was he still standing there staring like some kind of idiot? Scowling at himself, he turned on his heel and managed to make it back to his room before his thoughts began to pester him again. Hand on the doorknob, he wondered how much whining he’d have to endure if the boy _did_ lose a few fingers, and how many people would give him shit if Allen blamed him. Not that it was his fault, and he certainly wouldn’t feel _guilty_ , but he didn’t really want to put up with everyone else acting like he committed a heinous crime in letting Allen lose his fingers. Really, they were too annoying.

Groaning to himself, he entered his room, only to return moments later with two blankets in his arms, denying what he was doing even as he walked back in the direction he had come, insisting that it was just because there was a draft in his room. He probably should tell someone about the broken window, but telling them would mean drawing attention to the fact that he had broken it, and what he needed even less than the idiots around headquarters badgering him about getting along with a beansprout was the idiots at headquarters badgering him about what was wrong. So there. He didn’t want to deal with the draft coming in through the window nobody else knew was broken. That was it.

“Oi, Beansprout,” he shouted through the door he had slammed shut earlier. “Are you dead yet?”

He thought he heard a faint grumble, and wasn’t entirely sure if he was pleased or not by the weak affirmation that the boy was still somewhat alive and kicking. He reached around blindly for the doorknob, unable to see it past the armful of blankets, and let himself in. The boy hadn’t moved an inch since Kanda had left, and he didn’t so much as twitch even though he had to have heard the door slam shut.

Sighing in his typically aggravated manner, Kanda dropped the first blanket onto the foot of the bed still folded, then opened up the second and flung it over Allen, covering him entirely, even his head. That earned a muffled noise, probably of complaint, but he ignored it and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the other blanket into his lap and unfolding it as well. Behind him he could feel Allen shift and roll over.

“Y-you ac-c-c-ctuallyyy c-c-came b-back-k-k?” he said, and his disbelief was evident even through his chattering teeth.

“Shut up,” Kanda said. “You’re gonna bite off your tongue.”

“B-but you--”

“There’s a draft in my room, alright?” Kanda said irately, snapping the blanket free. “Just shut up and never speak of this again, alright?”

Allen was silent, and Kanda looked around to find him staring at him with the strangest expression on his face. He couldn’t quite place it, exactly, but it made him feel simultaneously warm and uneasy. When the boy registered that Kanda had noticed his look, he gave one of his stupid grins and tugged the blankets aside, scooting over with all the speed of a drunken snail to make room.

“Tch.”

Kanda discarded his damp coat onto the floor and laid down with his back to Allen without a word, pulling the blankets back over them both and flinging the last one behind him, hopefully in Allen’s face. He could feel the boy rustling around behind him, but he just closed his eyes and tried to ignore him.

Which became very hard to do very quickly, because a pair of icy hands was suddenly pressed against his back. The air hissed from Kanda’s teeth in surprise and discomfort and he looked around to glare daggers at Allen. Far from being cowed by Kanda’s stare of death, Allen smirked and pressed his toes to the back of Kanda’s legs, partially bare because his pant legs were riding up. Kanda yelped and kicked back at him with all his strength, but either Allen was so cold that he was numb, or he didn’t care, because he just jabbed Kanda in the side.

“Beansprout, what the hell are you playing at?” he snapped. “This isn’t some slumber party. I’m here because you asked and not to be your personal source of entertainment.”

 _Shit_.

The air went still and silent as Allen blinked, startled by what Kanda had admitted in his irritation. Too late to take it back, Kanda pointedly turned back around, hoping stupidly that that would be the end of it. To an extent, it was. At least, Allen quit poking and prodding at him in his delirious state. He did however scoot over to press against Kanda’s back again, making the hairs on the back of his neck and arms stand up. He blew a long, slow breath out through his mouth and resigned himself to being the kid’s heat pack. That was why he was here in the first place, after all.

Slowly, he began to notice that the boy’s shudders were easing up--hard not to, when he was pressed flush against his back--and his teeth had quit chattering. Either he was losing feeling in his own back, or Allen was starting to warm up again, too, because it no longer felt like there was a statue of ice clinging to him like a baby koala. He sighed and shifted absently, noticing that his head was starting to ache a little. Ah hell, he’d forgotten to let it down.

Grumbling, he started to sit up, and Allen let out a noise of complaint that caused him to pause briefly to look around. The boy was glaring at him, almost daring him to do something, and he realized that Allen thought he was going to try and sneak out. It was a thought, but not one that had occurred to him.

“Would you relax, moron?” he said exasperatedly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Allen narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but Kanda rolled his eyes and reached up to untie the cord holding his hair back, fingers fumbling with the knot, which seemed to have gotten wet and then frozen stuck. He swore loudly.

“Do you need help?” Allen wondered, and he had the gall to sound amused.

Kanda whipped around to scowl at his smug smirk.

“Why would I need your help untying my hair?” he said.

“Well obviously you can’t do it yourself,” Allen responded, nodding at the hands that were still trying to work the knot free of the ice. When Kanda just continued to glare, the boy sighed. “It’ll be easier for someone who can see it to undo it. I swear on my life I have no interest whatsoever in harming your hair, alright?”

Kanda didn’t respond, but his fingers hesitated on the cord. With a roll of his eyes that generate far too much sarcasm for such a small movement, Allen reached up himself--his fingers were still discolored, but at least they weren’t purple anymore--and swatted Kanda’s hands aside. The swordsman went stiff as Allen carefully tugged and rolled the cord, pulling at his hair in the process, until Kanda felt it come loose and his hair cascaded down over his back and shoulders. God, it was cold, and still a little damp from getting snow in it when he was outside. A hand reached over his shoulder and Kanda reflexively caught the wrist in a vice-like grip.

“Oi!” Allen exclaimed, startled and immediately attempting to pull away.

The cord that had been holding Kanda’s hair fell from Allen’s fingers onto the blankets. Kanda released the boy and picked up the hair tie, wrapping it around his wrist and then slumping back down. Allen followed suit, continuing to plaster himself to Kanda in order to leach all of his body heat.

“...Thanks,” Kanda said grumpily. Allen made a noise of surprise.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, not unkindly.

They laid there like that for God knows how long, awkward and tense. Kanda was just beginning to drift off when a sleepy voice roused him.

“Hey, Kanda?”

“Tch. What?” he said.

“Thank you.”

Kanda was quiet. Something new brushed his upper back right between his shoulders, and he suspected that it was Allen’s forehead. He sighed.

“You’re welcome. Don’t get used to it, though.”

“Like I could,” the boy snorted.

Kanda’s lips twitched. After that, sleep seemed to jump out from nowhere.

* * *

“You’re hogging all the blankets Beansprout!”

“Shut up, it’s my room! And it’s ALLEN!”

“But those blankets are _mine_!”

“I thought you didn’t get cold!”

“Shut up and give me the blankets back!”

“No way, I’m still cold!”

“You’re a fucking furnace again, don’t give me that bullshit!”

“It’s not bullshit! I’m freezing!”

“Get over it you brat and give me my stuff before I cut you in half! You won’t have to worry about being cold after that, will you?!”

 


End file.
